The Prince and the Pauper
by SmexxiAnime115
Summary: After Sasuke Uchiha's parents died, he chose to live on his own and fend for himself rather than rely on someone else to take care of him. His decision proves to be a difficult one when he discovers that he can hardly make ends meet, and battles hunger nearly everyday. And it isn't until a handsome prince crosses his path that he allows himself to be taken care of for once.


**Hey, guys, it's been a while since I've posted a story, and I hope to do it more often. This story is meant to be based off of a fairytale, and though I have most of the story planned out, I think it would be cool for you guys to suggest what you want to see, or prefer to see what will happen in this tale.**

 **I'm not much of a talker, so let's hop into it.**

 **WARNING: This chapter has attempted rape, so if you're offended by that, or if you can't handle it, feel free not to read.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its character.**

 **XxX**

"Damn, it won't come off," I cursed under my breath as I scratched at the mysterious stain on the granite countertop with my nail. Nothing seemed to work; not my nail, not a sponge, not bleach, but I couldn't leave it out in the open knowing that doing so would put my job at jeopardy. So, I grabbed the empty cookie jar by the microwave and put it over the stain, hoping that the owner would find it later rather than sooner.

When I finally backed away from the counter, I noticed that the sun had already begun to set – orange light seeped through the blinds of the window above the sink, spilling onto the tiled floor and massive butcherblock island at the center of the room. I went to the supply closet just off the kitchen and grabbed a bucket along with a mop. Out of all the things I had to do as a housekeeper, mopping the floors was what I hated the most. The kitchen itself was larger than my apartment, and the rest of the house was bigger than the complex I lived in. But I knew complaining wasn't going to get the floors clean, so I drowned the mop in bleach and got to work.

Though I had been working as a housekeeper in this very mansion four times a week for over two months, I still found it hard to juggle work and school. Often times, I fell behind on homework and studying because I had to work or because I was too tired to do it. If I had a choice, I wouldn't work at all, but without parents to provide for me, I had to find a way to support myself somehow.

The royal council was nice enough to not place me in a foster home after the accident, and instead struck a deal with me that if I proved I could take care of myself I could live without a guardian. They helped me get started by leasing me the crappiest apartment in Konohagakure, and paying my rent for the first few months until I found a job, which so happened to be this one. And though I hated cleaning up other people's messes, I knew that doing this was better than the alternative.

Once I finished for the day, I cleaned out the bucket and put everything back in its place. I ran my fingers through my damp hair and wiped the sweat off my forehead with my other hand all the while marveling at how shiny the floors were. When I first started, the owner left me angry notes on how crappy my cleaning was, but now even I could say that I improved. My chest swelled at the sight.

After I locked up, I pulled my beat-up piece of plastic out of my backpack, and sure enough I had a missed call and a few messages all from the same person – my best friend, Shikamaru. He knew where I was and what I was doing, but that didn't stop him from worrying that I might suddenly keel over from starvation or something. As I began to walk home, I responded to his last message, though not too long after, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a long walk from the rich neighborhood to the poor, so I decided that indulging him in conversation would help me to pass the time. We traded messages back and forth, and just when I crossed the border to the poor side of town, a car honked behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder, catching a topless red car driving up next to me. I didn't recognize any of the people in the car, so I kept moving, refusing to spare them another glance until the guy with silver sleeked back hair said "Hey, baby, wanna fuck?"

The others snickered, but I continued down the sidewalk, phone in hand. I stiffened slightly at the remark, but didn't let them see it.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

The car was now driving next to me, though it had slowed down to match my pace. Crossing the border into the poor side of the town meant less houses and less people taking leisurely strolls, leaving only me and the three douchebags in the expensive convertible with a few other cars passing by every other minute or so.

The guy who spoke didn't seem to take the hint when I ignored him, so I said, "I'm not interested."

In my peripheral, he leaned over the side of the car. "Not interested, huh?"

"Nope," I said as I responded to another of Shikamaru's texts.

"Well, I'll have you know I don't take no for an answer."

This time, I looked at him, and now that I was actually staring, it was obvious to tell that he was older than me. Probably a college student. "You do know I'm a minor, right?" I held up my cell phone. "If you don't piss off, I'm going to call the police."

He flinched. His friends whispered something I couldn't hear to each other. Hesitation shimmered in the silver-haired man's dark eyes, but then it disappeared, and he hopped out of the backseat and onto the sidewalk. I hadn't seen that coming and I gasped, taking a step back with my phone clutched tightly in hand. A wicked smile spread across his face, and every time he stepped closer, I took one back.

"Go ahead. Call the police; I don't care," he said. "In the end, I'll get what I want from you, and you'll wish you hadn't called them."

"Hey, Hidan," called one of his friends from the car. "Your dad can bribe the cops to not put you behind bars, but we don't got that. Get your ass back in the car and let's go."

"Shut up," hissed Hidan, peering over his shoulder. When he looked back at me, I felt the color drain from my skin and my mouth run dry. There was nothing but pure lust in his eyes.

I took a step back only to meet a metal fence. When he reached for my face, I smacked his hand away and said "Don't touch me."

Hidan smirked, roughly grabbing my hips to pull me towards him. I pushed on his chest to try to get away and ended up dropping my phone in the process. It hit the cement hard, snapping the flip phone in two. He hardly budged when I pushed, and he easily grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head. Hidan leaned in despite his friends' protests, planting nauseating kisses along my jaw and neck. Bile brewed in my stomach and threatened to expel until he pulled away from my neck and let go of my wrists to trail his larger hands down my body.

Everywhere he touched made my skin crawl, and though I wanted to beg him to stop, I couldn't find my voice. Whenever I tried to speak, out came a pitiful whimper.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll be gentle."

His hands felt down my sides, rounded behind me, and he gave my ass a hard squeeze. He leaned in close enough for his hot, jagged breath to creep down the collar of my shirt, and I felt his excited cock brush against my abdomen. I froze; my blood ran cold. His friends were still sitting in the car, but they stopped trying to get Hidan to leave me alone and instead were having a conversation. No one had driven or walked by since the douchebags showed up, and I realized that with no other person willing to help me in sight, I was about to get raped.

I squeezed my eyes shut, sending out a silent prayer when a police siren blared from down the street. Hidan snatched his hands away and hopped into the convertible. The three of the them drove off, leaving tire marks on the asphalt and smoke in its wake.

I remained against the metal fence in the same position Hidan had me, completely frozen. My heart pounded against my chest, my skin covered in a layer of sweat. I stared aimlessly at the ground, unable to think properly. And when I finally understood what almost happened, I heaved out a ragged breath and the world started to spin. I felt myself collapsing, but someone grabbed my arm and settled me onto my feet. I flinched away, stumbling until I caught my balance on the fence, but then I saw who had come to my rescue.

"Shikaku," I breathed.

"Are you okay, Sasuke?" he asked. He reached for me, however, when I shied away, he retracted his hand and instead gestured towards his police cruiser. "Come on. I'll take you home."

I straightened out my clothes and picked my broken phone up off the sidewalk before sliding into the passenger seat of his cruiser, clutching my backpack to my chest. Shikaku drove off, gripping the steering wheel harshly. I dared to glance at him, and when I did his nostrils were flared, his thin lips were pulled into a tight, thin line, and whenever he paused at a stop sign, he checked to make sure the streets were clear with a jerky snap of his head.

He didn't ask any questions the entire ride to my apartment, but I had the feeling he had the intent of getting the answers whether I opened up and told him what happened, or if he had to question me.

As the cruiser pulled into the garbage infested parking lot of the apartment complex, one of the tires crushed an air-filled water bottle. I jumped at the explosion, taking note that my reaction hadn't gone unnoticed. I reached for the handle after he parked, though Officer Shikaku called my name, preventing me from making my exit just yet.

"Who were those guys?" asked Shikaku, his voice calm and gentle. "Have you seen them before?"

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. I refused to look at him, finding the chipped paint and broken steps leading to the second floor of the complex easier to look at. "No, I… didn't know them. They didn't know me either."

Shikaku inhaled through his nose, the leather seat whining as he relaxed into it. "I see…" He kept one hand clutched onto the steering wheel, gripping it so tight that it also whined. "I can't force you to make a statement, but as an officer of the law, and as your best friend's father, I advise you to come back to the precinct with me to press charges against that guy."

I pulled my backpack closer, and held onto it tighter as the memory resurfaced. I could still feel his hands on my body, his lips on my jaw and neck. The thought alone had me shaking with disgust and contempt. I didn't want to be reminded anymore. I just wanted to forget and move on. "Can't we just drop it?"

"I can't just overlook this, Sasuke. I care about you!" His reflection in the window turned towards me. "And it's my job to put people like that away. Can you cooperate long enough to give me what I need to arrest him."

The idea nearly made me cave in, but then I recalled what Hidan's friend said about his father being able to bribe the police and I knew that if I pressed charges, it would all be in vain. I finally looked at Shikaku. "No. I'm sorry. I can't do that."

He leaned against his seat again, pinching the bridge of his nose and his mouth forming a deep frown.

"And I would appreciate it if you didn't tell Shikamaru about it. It would only make him worry more."

"With good reason!" He exhaled through his nose. "If you ever need a ride home from work, let me know. I'll come pick you up no matter where I am at the time."

"Thanks, but that won't be necessary."

He exhaled again, and I knew I was trying his patience. "Do you have food in the fridge? If you need some, I'll buy groceries for you."

I narrowed my eyes. "Now I know where Shika gets his personality from," I mumbled. "If I needed help, I'd have come lived with you when you suggested it. Thanks for caring, but I'm fine. I promise."

"You don't look fine. You look like you haven't eaten in days."

"Alright." I opened the door, swinging my bag over my shoulder the moment my feet touched the asphalt. "Thanks for the ride, Officer. Tell Shikamaru my phone broke so he doesn't have a panic attack."

Shikaku opened his mouth to say more, but his voice was muted when I closed the door. I kicked trash out of the way and carefully ascended the broken stairs to the second level of the building. I fished my keys out of my bag, unlocking my apartment. I twisted the knob and used the full weight of my body to open the heavy door, closing it behind me by exhausting a greater amount of strength.

There was no mistaking the scent of old apartments. No matter how much I cleaned, I couldn't get rid of the stale taste in the air, the smell of mildew, and the scent of cigarettes from my neighbors next door and down below. The water stained ceiling was caving in, though the windows were closed, it didn't stop the draft from slipping in unless I duct taped the sides, the faucet never stopped dripping, and the floor was covered in a permanent grime.

I dropped my bag at the door, and turned on the light switch. The ceiling light flickered a few times before it decided to illuminate, and I removed my shoes at the front door. I had evaded Shikaku's question regarding whether I had food because I didn't. I hadn't eaten in days just as he had speculated. And though I knew that, I couldn't stop myself from going over to the refrigerator to check just in case I missed something. I avoided the brown water leaking from under the fridge, pulling the rusty door open to find nothing but mold clinging to the corners of the old appliance.

My stomach growled.

Now that I had nothing to keep me busy, my hunger was all I could think about. My organ burned as it cried out for sustenance, and all I could do was ignore it and try to find something to do before I headed to bed.

The apartment was one, small space, with the exception of the bathroom, and I didn't own any furniture or anything to entertain myself. So, I pulled a folder from my school bag, laid out my futon, and laid down at the center of it to study the script for the school play. I had already learned my lines along with everyone else's, but with nothing else to do, I figured I should read it over again until I began to feel sleepy.

I fell asleep without realizing it and woke up early in the morning to the sound of my neighbors arguing. I groaned, turning on my side and covering my ears with my pillow. It was no use; the sounds of their voices vibrated the floor and I was soon reminded of the emptiness in my stomach. My stomach gnawed at me, begging for food, but all I could do was squeeze my eyes shut and hope that I could make it through the night.


End file.
